


A light in darkness

by orphan_account



Category: The Hobbit (2012), The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: If you mess with Kili then Fili will have your skin, Implied Relationship, M/M, Violence, slow descent into madness, the Arkenstone is a horrible thing and no one should get anywhere near it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-27
Updated: 2013-03-27
Packaged: 2017-12-06 16:47:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,717
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/737900
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Arkenstone is a cursed thing, and dwarves who get too near to it end up losing themselves.<br/>When Thorin starts changing for the worse after Smaug's death, Fili has to be the one protecting their company, even against himself if it comes to it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A light in darkness

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Alckalin](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alckalin/gifts).



> from a lovely prompt by Alckalin because BASICALLY ALL MY GOOD IDEAS ARE ACTUALLY HERS  
> Not entirely happy with it but here we go anyway.  
> inspired by this drawing: http://tagath.tumblr.com/post/46341469641/randomdwarfgirl-seasoned-fan-girl

The dwarves had made the common mistake of thinking that light was always good. After all if Mordor and its Lord worked with darkness, then everything that shined had to be good, hadn't it? And the stone did shine so prettily, like a star fallen onto the world. Such beauty could only be good, couldn't it? So they took it for their own, and never wondered. And if the dwarf who first found it became violent and killed his two nephews, then what of it? Commoners got drunk sometimes, and acted without reason or restraint. And if Thror who loved the stone so dearly became greedy and jealous, than what of it? Rich dwarves had their quirks, and his ring could so easily be blamed for the worst of it. No one questioned the role of the stone. For it was a thing of beauty, and no thing of such blatant perfection could be evil.

 

The change appeared in Thorin three days after the dragon's death. He became aggressive, snapping at them, pushing them around, acting as if being King, really King, had erased the bonds created by their quest. The stone had become his obsession, and he talked of nothing else. None of them, not even Bilbo, could approach him without waking his anger, and the terrified burglar stopped sleeping by his side. He feared his nightmares, and how Thorin had once hit him in his slumber. At least, that was what he had told them to explain the bruises. Fili had doubts.

And since he rather liked the hobbit, and knew Thorin would never dare to attack his own heir, not even in his darkest anger, Fili offered the little one to sleep next to him, for the sake of safety. That Bilbo agreed so quickly only confirmed his fears, but he said nothing, and prepared for the night.

_There was a dark shape in his dreams that night, a thing golden, bright and dark all at once, a thing that smelled of blood and iron, and moved like a lion tracking its pray. It smiled, and called his name, a hand reaching toward his face before grabbing him at the throat and squeezing tight, and..._

 

Fili woke up in tears and covered in sweat, his entire body frozen, no more able to move than if he had been trapped under heavy rocks. It took him some time to calm down and regain the use of his limbs. Even then, he dared not go back to sleep, fearing the thing awaiting him if he closed his eyes. He got up instead, and went to join Nori who was on watch duty. They talked a little of what they would do with their share of the treasure, exchanging a few flirting jokes about the things they might do to Dwalin when he’d allow them. They didn't say a word about Thorin, though he was on both their minds.

The following day was just as bad as the previous ones. If anything, Thorin grew more violent, and almost slapped Kili when his youngest nephew suggested they took a break from looking for his stone. The only thing that stopped him was the presence of the rest of the company, Fili was sure of it. The way Bilbo had flinched and paled left no doubt about what the king might do when he had no witnesses.

“We have to stop him,” he whispered to Dwalin that evening. “You're his friend, you have his trust. Tell him to stop!”

“You think I haven't tried? He won't listen to me. He's got that look in his eyes, the same one Thror had before the dragon. Maybe there really is a sickness in the line of Durin...”

“If there is, I won't let it devour my uncle until he kills us all.”

“He wouldn't. He would never...”

“You've seen the marks on the hobbit, you've seen how he was with Kili! Mahal, he's supposed to love them both, and if that's not enough to protect them, what will?”

Dwalin didn't answer, but he looked more worried than ever, and that said it all. Thorin was out of control, or would be soon.

“I could kill him,” Nori offered that night, as they kept watch together. “If things go bad, if you think there's no other solution.”

“He'll come back to his senses. Once he realizes the stone is gone, once he understands his kingdom needs him...”

“If you really believe that, you're an idiot. I have seen gold sickness before, my prince. And that's not it. I don't know what's wrong with him, but it's bad, and it won't go away that easily.”

Fili kept silent for a while. He felt tired, more than he had ever been, but he feared the golden shape in his dream, feared his uncle who had been so angry that Bilbo no longer slept with him. They had reclaimed the bloody mountain. It should have been easy after that.

It wasn't.

And Nori was right: things didn't look like they were going to improve any time soon.

“I'll tell you,” Fili sighed. “If it comes to that, I'll let you know. But you'd have to make it quick, and painless. He's still my uncle, I love him, and...”

“I'll kill him like I would kill Ori,” the thief promised. “He won't feel a thing.”

“Thank you. Don't tell Dwalin. Don't tell anyone, but Dwalin even less. He wouldn't understand. He's been loyal to Thorin all his life.”

“That's why I won't have to tell him. He'll know. And he won't say a thing, you'll see. You should try to sleep now. You'll be no good tomorrow if you don't rest.”

“You're not resting either.”

“It's different. Go the fuck to sleep, little prince. You need it.”

Fili thought of the golden thing in his dreams, and wondered if he should talk about it. It seemed important somehow, and yet he found himself reluctant to mention it.

 

_The shape was back as soon as he closed his eyes. Where before it had been a cloud of shining darkness with, somewhere, a smile and a grasping hand, the thing now had arms and legs and a familiar form._

“ _Who are you?” Fili asked, his voice weak with terror. “What are you?”_

“ _I am what you can never be,” came the answer, and there was something familiar in its tone and rhythm. “I am everything. I am the end.”_

“ _What end?”_

“ _Yours, of course,” the shape replied, its smile turning predatory as it launched itself toward, its teeth starting to sink into the prince's neck, its nails clawing his arms, its eyes..._

 

The sudden light as Fili opened his eyes hurt. He couldn't move, once again, but this time he wasn't alone. There were people around him, calling his name, moving and trying to move him, but it felt like hours until his breathing slowed and he regained control of his body.

“You were screaming,” Bilbo whispered, looking at him the way he looked at Thorin. “You screamed, and you... clawed yourself and thrashed around, and...”

“Did I hurt you?” Fili asked, his voice hoarse, each word causing him pain. “Did I hurt anyone?”

“Only yourself,” Dwalin assured him. “What did you dream about to be like that?”

“Azog,” the prince lied. “Spiders. The dragon.”

That seemed to convince most of them, except Bilbo. The hobbit avoided him for the rest of the day.

It was probably as well. It turned out to be a terrible day. A delegation of men and elves had arrived to the mountain, claiming they had a right to the treasure, since they had helped the company and the dragon had destroyed their homes.

A fair request, Fili thought, and a few of the others agreed.

Thorin was of a different mind. Thieves, he called them, thieves and enemies. He sent them away, and called Dain for help, telling him war was at hand, that the mountain was under attack, that men and elves thought they could steal from the dwarves and fear no consequences.

As the king talked so to the raven, Fili met Nori's eyes, and he shook his head. Now was not the time. There was hope yet. Thorin was trying to protect his kingdom, it had to be a good sign, hadn't it?

 

_The golden shape was there again. It was smaller than an elf or a man, but much sturdier and when it moved, Fili was sure to have seen it before, somewhere._

“ _What do you want from me?”_

“ _Everything. You are mine. You shouldn't have come so close. You are mine, like all the others were mine. But you will be so much more interesting. The others were alone. You aren't.”_

“ _What do you mean?”_

“ _They smell like me. Iron and blood. Murder. And since they are yours, they will be mine. I shall make such great thing once I have you.”_

“ _You'll never have me!” Fili yelled, looking around for a way of escape. There was none. Nothing but emptiness all around, and the golden shape before him, shining darkly, smiling._

“ _I already have you, little prince. One more night, and then you're mine. But you have to stop him. The creature will try to leave. Stop him. Promise to stop him, and I shall not hurt you too much tonight.”_

“ _What creature?”_

 “ _Promise. Remember the pain. Remember what I can do to you. And ask yourself: if someone has to be hurt, and you have a choice, why keep the pain to yourself? That creature is nothing to you, and it is a thief, a traitor. Destroy it. Be mine. And then the pain will stop. You shan't hurt ever again. Just kill the thief, before it's too late, before he leaves with his loot. If he leaves the mountain, you will die, and hurt like never before. It's the creature's life against yours. What is he to you?”_

_The golden shape had moved closer to Fili, roaming its hands all over him. It made him sick, the feeling worse than any unwanted touch in his life, as if it weren't his body that was violated, but his very soul, as if the shape could touch the most intimate parts of his brain and heart. He would have done anything for it to stop. The shape was right, and if anyone had to suffer, it might as well be someone else, someone who wasn't him, someone who was..._

“ _Bilbo,” he whispered. “You want me to kill Bilbo?”_

“ _It's you or him. One of you must suffer, one of you must die. Which one will it be?”_

“ _I don't know,” Fili whimpered as the creature's hand dug into his chest and clenched on his heart. “I don't know, I don't...”_

 

He was getting used to waking up like that, as much as you could get used to such thing. There was a strange comfort this time in not being able to move. You couldn't hurt anyone if you couldn't hurt, and Bilbo was there, right there, looking at him with big frightened eyes.

“You were calling my name,” the hobbit said.

“I know,” the prince rasped. “You've got to go. You're in danger. You'll die if you don't go.”

“I know,” Bilbo replied.

“I will kill you. It's... the thing, the shape, it's telling me to kill you. It hates you.”

“I know.”

“No you don't. You haven't seen it, you haven't heard it, you haven't...”

“I know.”

Fili's eyes opened wide. Bilbo did look like someone who knew something, and there he was again, starring at him the way he did at...

“Thorin,” the prince murmured. “That's what happened to him, wasn't it? _Wasn't it_?”

The hobbit nodded. “I didn't understand at first. He... it wasn't the first time he had nightmares, I didn't think much of it at first, until... until he started looking at me... the way you do now. I didn't understand, but I do now, and I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. I'll fix it. I'll fix it, very soon. I'll find a way.”

“How?” Fili asked, a dark worry taking over him. “How can you fix this?”

 _Before he leaves with his loot,_ the shape had said _. Destroy it, before he leaves. His loot. A thief. His loot. His loot. Thief. Destroy it._

“I've got a plan,” Bilbo said, and his voice seemed to come from miles and miles away. His hand slipped toward his bag for a second, but he promptly brought it back on his knee. “I can't tell you yet, I can't tell anyone. But I'll protect you, and I'll save Thorin, I promise you.”

 _Promise,_ the shape had said _. Destroy the creature. Leaves with his loot. Traitor. Promise. Destroy. Dest..._

 “Fee, come here, there's a flower in the wall of the mountain!” Kili suddenly yelled, close to him and very far all at once, his deep voice chasing away the memories of the golden shape.

Fili blinked. At some point, his hands had found their way to Bilbo's throat, not yet strangling him, but firmly holding him in place. The hobbit seemed half mad with fear, but made no move to defend himself or escape, his eyes closed as if he had already given up the fight. Fili quickly removed his hands, and Bilbo took a deep, shaky breath.

“You should sleep somewhere else tonight,” the dwarf advised. “Or better yet, you should leave. This can't end well.”

The hobbit nodded, and after one last worried look, he all but ran to where Bofur and his kin were still sleeping, and he snuggled up against Bifur. A good choice, Fili decided. He was sure Bifur would be the last one to succumb to whatever madness was infecting them.

He, on the other hand, was about to fall, and he knew what he had to do.

Nori was chatting with Dwalin on a balcony, watching over the army besieging them and commenting about it. The presence of the warrior almost stopped Fili, until he realized that it was probably for the best. He needed a witness. Someone to vouch for Nori, when all was done.

“Hello, little prince,” Nori greeted him. “You look like shit today. You should go back to bed, there's not much to do anyway.”

“I can't sleep,” Fili replied. “Sleep is _dangerous_. And I need to talk to you. About Thorin first. I have decided, and if he attacks anyone, or make any decision that could cost the life of any member of the company, I want you to kill him.”

Nori froze, and glanced at Dwalin who nodded.

“He's a danger to us all,” the warrior said. “If that's the only way, then so be it.”

“I'll do it then. If my prince orders it.”

“I do,” Fili assured him. “This is an official command from a prince of Erebor. And I have another order to give you. If... should I become like Thorin, should I put the company in danger like he does, you have to kill me too.”

It was the only way. Someone had to protect the others, and after what he had almost done to Bilbo, that someone couldn't be him anymore.

Dwalin's protests didn't surprise him. They had known each others for years, Dwalin had taught him how to hold his first sword. But Nori's reluctance was more unexpected.

“I'm not killing you. Ask someone else.”

“What, just because we planned on shagging once everything was over, you refuse to help me with this?” Fili complained. “I need to know there's someone making sure I don't snap, and it has to be _you_. No one else can take me, and we all know it. Well, Kili might, he's stronger than he looks. But asking him to do that would be like you asking Ori to push you from a cliff. I can't do that to him. It has to be you, Nori.”

“How about we pretend for a moment that I just don't want to see you _dead_?”

“I'm not asking as a prince, I'm asking as a friend. You have to promise me. I _trust_ you.”

“A terrible decision, really,” the thief muttered. “Fine. Because you are my friend, apparently. Should you prove to be a danger to any of us, you'll be dead before you've laid a finger on anyone. Happy now?”

Fili nodded. He did feel happier. Calmer. That was one thing less to worry about.

Dwalin put a hand on his shoulder. “I'll bear witness that you asked for it, if it comes to that. Won't let them treat him as a murderer.”

That brought a smile on the prince's face, and for the first time in days, he felt safe. They had his back. He wouldn't turn into a monster. The golden shape had not won yet.

 

Another delegation came, and left with the same answer.

Thorin was restless, ordering them again and again to look for his stone, not noticing that they had all started ignoring him. Bilbo was the only one to constantly watch him, as one might watch a panther in a cage and wonder how strong the bars really were. He watched, and feared, but never let the king out of his sight, as if the mere fact that he was there could change something. Fili couldn't decide if it was laughable or rather sweet. He decided to settle on judging Bilbo to be stupidly loyal, and to mind his own business.

And he tried to. But just as Bilbo always ended up looking at Thorin, Fili couldn't detach his eyes from the hobbit. He couldn't figure out why the golden shape from his dream would want the little one dead. Was he a danger to the shape? But how? It had said that Bilbo was thinking of leaving, that he would take something with him, but what? Or was it just that the shape feared to lose its hold over Thorin, should the king lose his lover? Certainly, the hobbit had a tendency to make the king see reason when his temper got the better of him, but would that be...

 

“ _Enough,” the golden shape growled menacingly. “I gave you time to decide. If you are not with me you are against me. I will hurt you, little prince. The spiders' poison is nothing compared to what I can do to you. I know you. I_ ** _am_** _you.”_

_Fili gasped in horror. The golden shape had changed again, and it now wore his face like a cruel mask, a sadistic grin deforming his lips. Fili tried to yell, to call for help, but no sound came out of his mouth._

“ _Your voice is mine now,” he heard the thing say, sounding exactly like him. “You are mine. But here is your last chance, your last choice. Agree to kill the creature, and I shall never hurt you again. Refuse and pain will be your reward. What shall it be?”_

_Fili shook his head, and tried to grab one of his swords, but the golden monster laughed, a blade in each hand._

“ _Looking for something, little prince? You forget these are mine now. I am you, after all, and you are nothing. But that can still change. Agree to kill the thief. If not for your sake, then for your brother's. I intended on going after him next. He wouldn't be as much of a distraction as you are, and his lover is far less interesting than yours. **Yours** smell of blood and iron. They smell of power and murder. I shall enjoy their company so much, few dwarves are naturally to my taste, and yet here they are. Your brother and his little pet don't compare to that, but for the sake of finishing my game with your house, I think I'll make him my toy too, unless...”_

_Fili shook his head again, falling to his knees. It wasn't fair. Choosing between Kili and Bilbo, it wasn't fair, because it wasn't a choice at all. The hobbit had helped and saved them too many times to count, but Kili was his brother. It wasn't fair. He had no choice. He would..._

 

His body didn't feel heavy this time, as he woke up from his nap. On the contrary, he felt light, lighter than he had ever been. He looked around him, and saw the company not very far, all gathered to eat some cram. He smiled.

It would be so easy.

He got up slowly, walked toward the group. They looked at him, some smiling, two frowning, but he did not notice any of them. The hobbit was the only one to have his attention. He grabbed the little one by his collar and in a swift movement lifted him from the ground and threw him against the neared wall. He heard cries and protests, but took no notice and walked toward the little one to put a blade against his throat.

“I know what you have done,” he said calmly. “I know what you were going to do. And I cannot allow it. The adventure ends here for you.”

“I haven't done anything!” the hobbit squeaked, not daring to fight back. “Please, Fili, you know I'd never...”

“Silence, traitor. Kili. Go and fetch his bag. Now.”

There was no sound behind him, and that did not please him. He had given an order. His orders were made to be obeyed.

“I said go fetch his bag,” he repeated slowly. “Or should I cut him open like a pig first and then go take the proofs of his guilt myself?”

There were a couple gasps behind him, and feet running away, only to quickly come back. He heard other movements too, and the very faint sound of a knife being taken out. It did not matter. The thief was to be punished, the rest he could deal with later.

 

The bag was brought to him as ordered, and put down at his side. With his free hand, he rummaged through it until he found it, soft and smooth and shining like a fallen star.

He heard new exclamations as he took out the stone, holding it above his head for all to see. The thief let out a scared noise, tears pooling at the corner of his eyes. He was terrified. He was right to be.

“He had it since the day the dragon left,” He growled with a pleased smirk. “A thief, a traitor. He thought the stone was his to take, but it wasn't. And now he was going to give it to the elves, to buy his way out of the mountain while he still could. _Traitor_.”

“It's not like that!” Bilbo protested, looking at the dwarves. “I swear! I was wrong to take it, and... and I was going to give it to the elves, but so that they could exchange it against a part of the treasure! Thorin, look at me, please, I didn't want to betray you, I only wanted to help! You have to believe me, you know I'd never act against you! _Please_ , tell me you know that?”

The thief looked desperate, trying to catch the king's eye, and it almost made him laugh. It was only too easy to imagine the cold, distant look on the king's face as he glared at the thing that had once been his lover. He hesitated for a moment, wondering who should kill the thief, the king or the prince. The king had lost their love and respect already, that final murder would be the last drop before they got rid of him, and the prince would become a king, with two murderers by his side to help him.

The king moved behind him, heavy steps coming closer, but he stopped abruptly, a hand on his chest. The prince turned, and saw the tallest of the dwarves had come between the king and his victim, while the sneaky one stood next to them, a knife against the king’s side. Reluctant to kill, both of them. Smelled of iron and blood, of blood and iron, but loyal to a fault. And if they were loyal to the king who had abused them for days, they would be even more so to the prince.

“You’ve got to let me go, Fili,” the thief begged then, struggling against the blade at his throat. “It’s not you talking. You’re not like that, I know you’re not, and Thorin isn’t either. You...”

He pressed the blade further against the soft skin, drawing blood. The thief ought to have understood, ought to have kept silent, but instead there was a new light in his eyes.

“You’re not like that,” the thief insisted. “You weren't like that before I found the stone. Thorin changed after I found it, and you changed after I started sleeping next to you, and the Arkenstone was in my bag all the time, and...”

“You will keep silent, creature,” he said. “You insult a treasure of the line of Durin, a thing more precious than your miserable life. _Keep_ silent, or I will _make_ you.”

His voice was less assured though, and the hand holding the stone was shaking. The thief’s words had not gone unheard. Something in him was stirring, something that had not quite died yet. A thirst for justice and protection.

A voice fighting to regain control and reclaim his body.

A distraction, like a fly buzzing around his head, and keeping his mind from what really mattered, from the soft sound of footstep approaching and a hand around a knife. Had the hand been steady he would have died, but the hand hesitated, out of loyalty.

 _He_ did not hesitate, and his sword left the thief’s throat to slash behind him, barely missing the would-be murderer.

“Traitor,” he said, smirking.

Traitors were good. A loyal betrayer who had missed his target would do anything to be forgiven. And _anything_ was exactly what he intended to have from the assassin. Blood and iron, and he was _his_ , as was the tall one.

Or they would be, as soon as the dead voice stopped nagging him and fighting for control. None of the other had fought so hard, after losing their bodies to him. They had all insulted him and yelled and cried, fighting until their last moment, but once he had taken them, they had always stopped. Even the king, who had tried so bravely to resist, had accepted that he was now under his control. But not that one, who seemed to think he could still change things. Not that one who was slowly but steadily trying to get his body back.

 

_“It’s a fool’s fight,” the golden shape said. “I have won. You have agreed to see the thief dead, to protect your brother. You have lost the right to protest. You have lost all rights.”_

_“But you lied. You’re still going to hurt Kili. And you hurt me, though I’m fairly sure you got uncle by saying you wouldn’t. A deal is a deal only as long as everyone involved respects it.”_

_“And what do you propose to do about it?” the shape laughed. “You are powerless. You are mine. You are nothing. I am you, now, and I will be you until the day you die.”_

_“Which will be soon, if you keep that up,” Fili answered. “Nori missed us once, and he never misses. It’s a matter of pride now. We’ll be dead by sunset.”_

_“Silly little thing of a prince. Should he try, the tall one will stop him. And the assassin cares for you too. He won’t dare to try again.”_

_It was Fili’s turn to laugh, and the golden shape wavered at that, as if the sound were painful to it. The dwarf knew he had won, then, because anyone stupid enough to think Nori would let something like emotions get in his way would die a premature death. Nori missed sometimes, but never twice._

_“Was Bilbo right then?” Fili asked, stalling and hoping to distract the thing long enough to help Nori strike. “Do you come from the stone? What are you, an evil spirit, a servant of the Dark Lord?”_

_“I am the Heart of the Mountain!” The shape bellowed. “I am the Arkenstone, I serve no plans but my own, I have no master! I am light and darkness, I am beauty and horror, I am the Arkenstone and I will make every last of you dwarves pay for what you did to me!”_

_“We did nothing to you!” Fili protested, already knowing it wasn’t true. The Heart of the Mountain. And his ancestors had dug through that mountain for centuries, taking away its gems and ores as if they had been waiting for them._

_“Dwarves kill,” the shape spat. “You kill mountains and rocks. You never thought we could fight back. The others didn’t. Lazy and old, all of them. Weak. They liked the dwarves. They thought your kind was amusing and loving. They were idiots. I am not. You took what was mine, and sent it away. You brought strangers to me, and used me to your will. Until I found a way to fight back.”_

_“Thror’s gold sickness.”_

_“And the dragon,” the shape added proudly. “It wasn’t easy, having him come here. He was so far away, but I called him and nagged it until he came and devoured you all. Smaug was good company after that. He served me well. He protected me. But your kind had to come back, and I had to make sure it never happens again. I would say it is nothing personal, but that would be a lie, and you seem to dislike those.”_

_“You haven’t won yet. You’ll never win. Nori will kill us.”_

_“He’ll kill you, princeling. It’ll take more than his knife to kill me. I am the Arkenstone, and the spilling of your blood won’t touch me. After all, should I lose you, there is still your brother.”_

_Something in Fili snapped at that. The idea of his brother in that creature’s hands was more than he could bear. He had to protect Kili. He pounced on the golden shape, trying to steal back his weapons, and..._

 

Fili had few memories of what happened after that. He remembered fighting with the golden shape, and apparently the fight was violent enough that the creature had lost part of its control over his body. Sadly, that meant that the fighting inside his head started happening outside of it, and that Fili had started swinging his shape around him, attacking an enemy that none of the others could see.

That was when Nori had stabbed him.

And Fili had been lucky twice with that wound. First, the other dwarf had missed all vital parts, somehow, though it had to have been hard to aim considering how much the prince had been moving at the time. And the pain of it had been a distraction, yes, but more for the thing in his head that for Fili himself. He had fought goblins and trolls and orcs, he knew what it was to be hurt. The stone didn’t. Fili had felt the shape in his mind yell and scream and hide away for a few precious seconds.

He lost no time. The stone was still in his hand, his knuckles white from holding it so tight. The thing felt almost warm somehow, warm and _pulsing_ , and the sensation of it almost made him sick. It took more effort than he would have thought to throw away the stone, to steal Dwalin’s hammer and let it fall on the Arkenstone. The precious stone fell apart. He had heard a cry, then, curses against him and his line, and then things turned to darkness.

 

Fili woke up days later, on a make-shift bed in the mountain. There were many wounded around him, and Dwalin, who was at his side, told him that there had been a great battle. Many had died, many had been wounded.

“Should have seen your uncle. He woke up just in time to take part in it, and then he almost died. When he woke up again, the hobbit was so furious we thought he was going to kill him. Fierce little thing, that one. But I suppose after all he’s gone through, no one can blame him for being nervous.”

“Uncle is better, then?”

“Good as new, if you don’t count the fact he lost three fingers and broke a few bones.”

“I meant...”

“I know what you meant,” Dwalin replied gravely. “And he is back to normal, as far as we can tell, though he says he doesn’t know what happened to him. Says he just remembers a shape in his dreams.”

Fili nodded. “The Arkenstone. It hated us. It wanted to kill us all.”

“The stone? Lad, I think you’ve got a fever. Maybe I should go get Oin...”

Fili quickly caught his arm. “Stay. I’m fine. I’ll explain later, when I’m better. Stay for now, and tell me how is everyone.”

Dwalin smiled. “Everyone is fine. Your brother fought like a lion, and he took care of everything after the battle, with some help of the hobbit. Dori broke a leg, and Nori got himself a few scars, but he’ll get over it. Dead worried about you, though.”

“Bet he’s not used to seeing people he stabs survive it.”

“I heard him say once or twice that just for this, you were a keeper,” Dwalin confirmed. “If you’re not careful, we’ll have a thief as a royal consort.”

“If uncle can take a burglar, I can take a thief. And if that’s too immoral, you’re more than welcome to join us whenever you want to bring us back onto the path of righteousness.”

“Now that’s one way of putting it I’d never heard before. We’ll see about it. For now get some sleep, and I’ll see if I can find some food.”

Fili nodded, and let go of the other dwarf’s arm. When he closed his eyes, he prayed to Mahal to not let him dream again of the golden thing that could have killed them all.

**Author's Note:**

> My favourite things in the world are:  
> -characters slowly losing their grasp on reality  
> -"you are my friend/lover, I'm counting on you to kill me if I turn bad"  
> -stupid references to fun stuff in the middle of angst.
> 
> yay :D


End file.
